Chapter 1: Mile End

The sun burned low and bright over Mile End Road as Dean Thomas silently walked back to his parents' flat, late on a summer's evening. His knees were scuffed, holding a beer in one hand as the other one cradled the football he had been kicking about all afternoon. It had been a good way to blow off steam, but hanging around his muggle childhood friends could sometimes feel quite lonely.

The other members of their five-a-side team were raucously recounting some of the afternoon's best moments. "The other side kept trying to widen the goalposts!" Jake protested, as his poor keeper skills were jokingly mocked by his friends.

"Glad to see you're back for the summer, Dean," Reggie, a short boy with dark hair pulled back in a knot. Dean perked up at the sound of his name. "And it's good you're still playing like you used to! I guess footie's everywhere, even in that posh school of yours."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I still get practice in during term time."

Whenever his Londoner friends asked him about where he went for nine months out of the year, Dean was careful to keep his answers brief and ambiguous.

At the age of 11, he received the letter declaring that not only was he a wizard but that he should be whisked away from all he had ever known, from his friends, from Mile End, from West Ham United, to attend a prestigious school for magical children. Naturally, his mother believed it to be a hoax.

However, after she was visited by a wizened old man with a kind face, who introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore, the school's headmaster, Vivienne Thomas and her son began to prepare for his departure.

Dean's stepfather was cautious as well, about sending his dearly-loved adopted son off to the Scottish Highlands to receive a strange education. But he suggested that, if it was what Dean wanted to do, then they would explain to the muggle secondary school, to which he had just been accepted, that he had received a scholarship to study at an elite institution, as opposed to explaining the situation in full.

Returning to London for Christmas and Summer holidays only, Dean began to realise that, while he enjoyed hanging out with his childhood friends, he felt more distant from them with every visit. Some of them felt that he must have become haughty and snobbish, supposedly studying at a posh and exclusive institution. The truth was that the outgoing child they remembered from their youth had become more reserved. When back home, Dean stuck to topics where magic would never come into play, such as soap operas and the Premier League. He always avoided questions about his education and his life up in Scotland.

As the group of friends reached Dean's apartment block, he said his goodbyes. "Come out tonight!" Reggie insisted, "It's been ages. We're going to Bagleys, a friend of mine can get us in." "I don't know," Dean started to protest. "Just tell your mum you're coming to mine. She'll be chill with it."

Dean hesitated for a second. "Alright. I'll meet you guys at Kings Cross around midnight."

Opening the front door just a crack, he could already hear Hayley and Ava were bickering. Not wanting to be dragged in to his younger sisters' disputes, he traipsed towards the bathroom to take a shower.

"What have you been up to?" his mum's voice sounded from behind him.

"Just been out," Dean mumbled. "I told you I would be playing football with the guys today."

"Yes, but it's almost 10 o'clock now. You missed dinner," Vivienne didn't sound angry, just a little disappointed. Which, Dean noted, always made him feel worse. "We don't get to see you for most of the year, and you never talk to us while you're back, anymore."

Dean stared at the carpet. He knew he would soon have to explain why he was avoiding his family but, having only ever told them about the happy, exciting parts of the wizarding world, he had no idea with where to begin. Soon he would be back at Hogwarts for his final year and he hoped that all the things he feared for his family would never come to pass.

"I know, I know," Dean conceded. "Perhaps I can treat you and Donald to lunch tomorrow, and we can have a proper catch-up. I've been saving some money from the café job; I can take you to that place in Islington you like."

Vivienne smiled. She knew something was up with her son but didn't want to force him to open up. "That would be lovely, my dear. Now go get in the shower! Running around with a football all day, you've really begun to stink!"

Dean had only been in the club for an hour but he needed some air.

As he lit up a cigarette, the flame from his lighter caught sight of a much brighter light in front of him. In spite of his slightly drunken haze, Dean recognised the unique glow immediately from the Dumbledore's Army class that was raided in their fifth year. The beam of light scampered towards him; it was Seamus's fox.

His best friend's Irish lilt emitted from the fox's mouth, "Neville just contacted me. You-Know-Who's taken over the ministry. I'll meet you at Neville's grandma's place, you need to be away from muggles. Try to explain to your ma."

The fox shimmered for a second longer and then evaporated. Grateful for Seamus's decision to contact him so quickly, Dean was also frustrated with all the information lacking from his brief message.

His friend was right, he knew that. Dean couldn't stay around Mile End. He needed to know what was going on but, more importantly, he needed his family to be far away from the danger that he would inevitably bring to them.

Neville had invited him to his family's place once before. The Longbottom's home was a remote, large, red brick pile, in the hills just outside Manchester. Dean remembered being shocked when he arrived to celebrate Neville's birthday last summer that such an unassuming, humble guy came from such a place.

Generations of Longbottoms had coated the mansion in protective charms and anti-intruder jinxes. And, as much as Dean had his reservations about kipping under the same roof as Neville's stern grandmother, it was much safer that his family were not known to be harbouring a muggleborn wizard.

Dean sighed, then kicked the wall in frustration. With a pain throbbing through his big toe, he pulled his wand out of his bomber jacket and apparatus back in to his bedroom.

He would pack through the night and explain everything to his mother in the morning.